The Alpha's Guardian
I see raven's black hair in a familiar braid.
My father hisses as Angie throws something in his eyes.
She’s chanting something, and her cries of pain grow louder. Jazz stumbles over to me, half sobbing, half shaking, clutching a frantic Zeno and my bag. “Charlotte… I have to… The police…”
“R—Robert,” I gurgled at her.
“The vet—The vet called him.” Her head moves in jerky shakes.
“G—Gun.”
Despite the pain, I move, reaching for the bag. Zeno suddenly goes wild, and as Jazz tries to hold on to him, my hand wraps around the gun, and I lift my head.
Bab Populer